Cluttered Moon
by Moral Conundrum
Summary: It's just another routine day of bedlam in the cramped flat above the Cluttered Moon. Aono Tsukune takes a moment to appreciate everything he's gained over the years.


**Rosario to Vampire**

**Cluttered Moon**

~o~

_October 7, 2014_

There was any number of reasons why the routine at sunup wasn't considered to be a smooth one, though they all agreed it started with Moka.

Moka was usually the first to stir. Their Academy years had given her an almost supernatural sense of primness and punctuality that it appeared was impossible for any amount of exhaustion to overcome, and it was a rare day when one of the others rose before her. She began the day with a cat-like stretch and a series of restful yawns. The essentials done, she would stumble down to their makeshift bathroom, whence came the purification rituals and a precursory brush of the teeth. It took her another five minutes to realise that she was rapidly growing thirsty. Amongst the others, this was largely established to be the point from which the rest of the morning would inevitably start to go downhill, particularly given that the quenching of Moka's thirst usually involved her draining the blood of one of her snoozing companions.

Such feedings were a significant cause for concern amongst the others. Tsukune was still the closest thing among them to an actual human, and she would take him whenever she could get him, but the long periods for which they'd been apart in the past had taught her not to be picky. While thousands of years of predatory evolution had given her race a special taste for humans, it was by no means impossible for them to sustain themselves on other sources. The sight of her leaning over Yukari or Ruby – both being Witches and thus distant relatives of humans – wasn't an uncommon one, and the former had quickly abandoned all her ideas of Vampiric romance when the frequency with which she'd woken to the decidedly unpleasant sensation of exsanguination had begun to pick up.

The distress that arose from having a pair of long fangs sunk into your throat was not insignificant, and it was pretty typical for the unfortunate victim to alert the rest of the group to their plight with a relatively shrill scream. A chorus of sleepy groans, yawns, and threats of violence would inevitably follow as the other women awoke. Kurumu would typically give Moka a drowsy grousing, and if Mizore was feeling particularly active, she'd freeze the lot of them to get a few more minutes' shut-eye.

Last, and arguably the least, was Tsukune. Apart from the odd occasions when Moka required his services as a blood bank, his problems at rising were of a different kind. The countless Yōki circuits that ran through his body required constant attention, and examining them wasn't exactly an easy job. Every day, he'd have to strip down and run diagnostics over every inch of his body. If he found a deficiency, or a weak link, he'd have to patch it up. It wasn't so much the repairs that concerned him; over the years, fixing the battered circuits had become almost second nature. The hard part was getting naked without getting noticed. Not exactly easy when there were five women ready to jump his bones in the room across the hall, two of which had unnaturally strong hearing. It took the very best of his Yōjustu to make the short trip to the bathroom each day unnoticed.

But it's not as if morning ends when you get out of bed. The tensions that cropped up around Moka's feeding and Tsukune's needing weren't even the worst of the odd bunch's daybreak difficulties.

The bathroom was, unquestionably, the biggest bone of contention. Behind the storefront itself, the bathroom was probably the mostly highly valued and contested space in the entire building. Kurumu had claimed it as her own the day they'd all moved in, and that little announcement had – more-or-less – gone down as a Declaration of War. Mizore had taken offence due to the fact that, being a Snow Woman, she needed a regular source of water, and it was ridiculous for Kurumu to monopolise it in any case. Moka had taken offence on the grounds that a Vampire should never give way to the demands of a Succubus, in any situation. It surprised no one that this sentiment was not actually condoned by the Outer Moka at all, but rather was a forceful objection by the Inner. Yukari took offence on the grounds that Moka took offence, and Ruby threw in her lot with Yukari.

And you could be certain that there would be precious little hot water left by the time the person who was lucky enough to get there first was through. Ruby, surprisingly, was the biggest glutton. If she could manage it, she'd spend a good hour or two soaking up the water. That was _if_ she could manage it. Mizore had a troublesome tendency to sneak in through the vents when the bathroom's current occupant took anything longer than a half hour. The line outside was no better; a collection of groggy monsters desperate for the next wash generally spelt trouble of global proportions.

On most days, Tsukune gave it up as a bad job, and went straight on to breakfast.

Yeah. Mornings were never smooth.

In the kitchenette, he dropped his head into his hands with a heavy yawn. The night before had been a long one. Having to get up at the usual time the day after a big job was always a bit of a nightmare. He scratched his head sleepily, inwardly lamenting the cruel necessity of his shower-skipping as he pulled a pair of teacups from their drawer. He released yet another yawn as he set the water to boiling, and turned around just in time to see a half-naked Kurumu dash out the end of the hallway, a furious Yukari hot on her heels.

"It was just a bit of fun!" Kurumu screeched, leathery wings wrapped protectively around her, "Geez; can't you take a joke?"

"I'll give you fun," the Witch growled, swinging an angry wand at the retreating Succubus. They circled in the centre of the living room, eyes locked on each other.

"Mind the furniture," Tsukune called, eyeing Kurumu's heaving chest furtively. Not that he was particularly worried. About the furniture, that is. The place they were staying could only be called liveable by a Yōkai's standards, and even the girls had mentioned that it wasn't exactly the peak of demonic lodgings. The whole house was a dilapidated wreck, and that very much included the furnishings. Their sleeping mats were frayed and patched, there were chinks in the pipes which never stopped dripping, and cobwebs were the principal article of decoration. From a human viewpoint, the flat was a hopeless tragedy.

His two companions' fighting might have been a bigger cause for concern, but, strangely enough, it wasn't. This was just another part of their rather unique daily routine. As a Succubus, Kurumu was a creature of innately flighty passions; very few hours passed without her trying to get some rise or other out of one of the girls. It just so happened that Yukari was the easiest target. Being the monsters they were, it was hardly surprising that a joke delivered in poor taste would descend into a tussle. In the Human World, a brawl like this between two young women would be almost as unthinkable as his standing by and watching. But, of course, as he had to constantly remind himself, he wasn't among humans. And neither of these two could ever be considered your average young woman. He chuckled, and wondered when he'd grown so used to this scuffling of his friends.

He attributed it, as he did most of his not inconsiderable shifts in perspective, to his time at the Academy. It was an easy target for blame, and frankly, the chief source of many of the frustrations of his adult life. He had no doubt that if he'd been party to a regular secondary education, he wouldn't have gotten nearly as used to the mortal combat that had eventually become a part of his day-to-day life. As a Yōkai, battle was just something you really had to get accustomed to in order to survive, and that was something he'd had to learn the tough way. Then again, his time at the Academy was also the chief source of the five great pleasures of his adult life, so he wasn't one prone to complaining.

He finished preparing the two cups of tea, paying no heed as Yukari hurled Kurumu out an open window with a wave of her wand. The first cup was his. Sort of.

"Ah! Thanks, Tsukune~"

Ruby waltzed by, and, right on schedule, snatched up the cup he'd intended for himself.

"You're welcome," he murmured wryly, taking up the second cup slowly. He frowned as Kurumu came barrelling back into the house, long claws slashing. If things didn't stop soon, there was going to be very little left of the house. Well, less than there was currently, anyway. Yukari backpedalled, taking a defensive stance on top of the divan. Tsukune felt his irritation spike, "Oi! Sendō! Watch the sofa!"

Yukari looked around at the address, and had just enough time to send him a warm smile before a Succubus clad in knickers-for-armour tackled her to the floor. The much prized sofa, sadly, suffered a glancing blow from the blue-haired monster's pointy wingtips.

He rolled his eyes, and returned to his rice. After a moment of watching the melee, Ruby joined him at the bench-top, rummaging around in the satchel slung over her shoulder and bringing out a fistful of tarot cards. Placing them face down, she frowned in concentration before reaching out and choosing the one furthest along. Picking it up, she eyed it speculatively.

Tsukune had never been much of a believer in prophecies and such, and Ruby had never yet been able to impress him by predicting anything he couldn't have predicted himself. Still, when you lived under the same roof as five creatures you'd never believed existed, you tended to keep an open mind. Managing to drag his eyes away from the top of her corset and tightly contained bust, Tsukune glanced at the card interestedly, "What's the forecast?"

"Oh, the usual." She turned the card so he could see. A grim reaper holding a bag of gold grinned back at him, "Financial ruin, doom and gloom."

Tsukune chuckled, "What else is new?" He took a tentative sip, "We're screwed if we get ripped off again."

"You're not wrong." Ruby pulled another card, "Huh. Tragedy and abduction." She gave him a wry look, "Let's just stick to financial ruin, shall we?"

"If you'd like," he snorted. The business they ran wasn't exactly what you'd call a smashing success. Oh sure, at first, the idea of opening up a store that straddled the gap between Worlds had seemed like a good one. It was only when they were all set up that they realised that nothing actually _lived_ in the middle of a dimensional breach. Not to say that they got no business at all, but the traffic was just barely enough for them to get by on. The Lolly Shop they'd wanted to open had been forced to mutate, and before you could say Bob's-Your-Uncle, the _Cluttered __Moon_ had become a Jack-of-all-Trades. But even then, trade was frail, and that was at the best of times.

Moka emerged from the depths of the house, stretching tiredly. Her pink hair was untamed; she'd obviously been denied the chance to have her herbal bath this morning. In spite of that, she was dressed immaculately, and the Rosary and choker at her neck were practically gleaming. She shot Tsukune a hungry look, but he waved her off. She pouted at him, and went to play peacemaker for Kurumu and Yukari, mercifully stopping their brawl in time to prevent the complete and utter destruction of their living room.

"Ugh." Ruby eyed the tea she'd just sipped distastefully, "Way too bitter." She held out a hand to Tsukune reproachfully, "Sugar?"

"Any time you want," Tsukune said with a laugh and a wink, reaching for the jar. His grasping hand met empty space. He frowned, looking down and around. The container was missing. He opened the drawers, but it wasn't there either. He glanced across at the other three, "Hey. You guys seen the sugar?"

They all shook their heads, though Kurumu's eyes brightened as she caught sight of him behind the bench. He scratched his head at the absence of sugar. Where on earth could it have got to?

"Here."

He glanced over his shoulder. Mizore emerged from behind the refrigerator with an apologetic smile, the sugar jar tucked protectively under her arm. Tsukune spent half a moment wondering how on earth she'd fit back there, and then hauled the train of thought to a stop. He'd quickly learned that attempting to figure out Mizore's uncanny ability to pop-up anywhere was like trying to run through a concrete wall; the more you try, the more obvious it becomes that you're _never_ going to succeed. Instead, he just accepted the jar with characteristic good grace.

Passing the sugar to Ruby, he was particularly displeased to note that his bowl of rice had, very mysteriously, vanished. He gave the empty space of bench-top a very hard look, and then turned to the others. Kurumu and Moka were having an animated discussion about something or other – probably about the new magic-drops that Kurumu had ordered in for the store – and neither one of them looked as if they'd touched it. Indeed, Moka wouldn't have a reason to in any case, due to her race's supremely senseless weakness to the untreated water within. Which left Yukari.

As if to answer his silent accusation, his empty bowl appeared in the sink with a soft _clink_. He gave the few leftover grains a sad glance, and steeled himself for the long, hungry day ahead.

Kurumu draped herself over the bench-top with a long yawn, violet eyes blinking sleepily. Tsukune eyed her warily. In spite of her earlier battle with Yukari, Kurumu usually took a bit to get going in the mornings. He gave himself another hour tops before she'd begin attempting to turn his head into the meat in a smothering, if pleasant breast sandwich.

"I _hate_ Bakeneko," she moaned, nuzzling the old wood tiredly.

"Concur," Mizore said, seating herself on the remains of the sofa, "The next time we get a job like that, I'm staying home."

Tsukune snorted at the obvious lie. The Snow Woman's frosty gaze rotated toward him, but he didn't bother feigning regret. Mizore could no more bring herself to stay at the house when the rest of them were out and about than Yukari could admit that her bust would always be that massive-bit smaller than Kurumu's. As soon as they got their next job, he'd bet his last buck that she'd be out in the thick of it with the rest of them.

"Did the old man pay up?" Kurumu asked, breaking into his thoughts.

"Yeah," he grinned, inwardly steeling himself against the coming shit-storm, "Fifty thousand."

The others went very quiet, eyes of all hues locked on him.

Ruby was the first to explode, "Fifty?" If Tsukune weren't so worried by the undertone of Murder in her voice, he might have wondered how her head could contain such a sudden ascent of blood, "_Fifty_? He promised us _triple_ that!"

"The expenses alone are going to be somewhere in the ballpark of a hundred thousand," Moka said, tugging anxiously at a long pink lock.

"No, no, no," Tsukune broke in, eager to correct her, "We ruined the bus, remember? That's gonna cost us at least a hundred thousand on its own. When you factor in that Yukari nearly burnt that guy's house down, and we wrecked half the road between here and Ōsaka, we're lucky we're not looking at a million in damages."

A short and very miserable silence met his spiel.

"Ah, Poverty," Kurumu murmured to the bench-top, "How I have missed thee."

"If this goes on," Mizore said morbidly, "We'll have to start putting our bodies on the market."

Tsukune sputtered, but the rest laughed.

"Ah! That reminds me," Ruby said, looking happy to be distracted from the misery of their finances as she turned to the Snow Woman, "How's the leg?"

Mizore raised her skirt a little, revealing the think bandage constricting her thigh. She examined it with an abnormal degree of detachment, "Not too bad. That poultice is fixing me up like clockwork."

Tsukune raised an eyebrow; this was the first he'd heard of it, "You didn't tell _me_ you got injured."

Kurumu scoffed, "Yah. It's kind of 'cause we wanted that demon alive."

Moka coughed unconvincingly, failing miserably to cover her smile, "You do tend to go a bit, erh, overboard, Tsukune."

Tsukune chose to ignore the pointed jibe. Yes, okay, he was known to get a little bit overprotective on the odd occasion. And yes, he had been known to take said protective streak a bit far. But that was absolutely no reason for them to pre-empt and prevent his worrying, even if his first reaction _did_ involve the exacting of bloodthirsty retribution against whom or whatever had been foolish enough to harm her.

Mizore must have recognised the look in his eyes. She removed her lollipop and shot him a gentle smile, "This's nothing. See?" She stretched her leg up languidly, giving him an eyeful of the bandages running all the way up to her lovely blue stripes. She grinned playfully, "Unless you wanna come over and kiss it better? 'Cause if _that__'__s_ the case, then I'm in a world of pain."

He rolled his eyes as each of the other girls suddenly discovered a score or more of maladies and ailments that could only be cured by his lips' hallowed panacea. Not for the first time, he wondered what it would be like to have just one absurdly attractive girl after him, rather than five. As always, his mind gave it only a moment's consideration before discarding the idea. Succubus, Vampire, Snow Woman, Witches. Each and every one meant something unique to him. Each was something that he knew he'd never be able to replace.

He leaned back, surreptitiously looking over the unquestionably odd group gathered around him. If someone had told him ten years ago, that he'd end up spending the majority of his days living in the company of these five young Yōkai, each one more lovely and deranged than the next – in their own particular ways – he'd have laughed in their face. Well, his parents would have laughed in their face. Being the pathetic little runt he'd been, he probably would have cried at the cruel impossibility of such a vision. And yet, a decade on, here he was.

Though, when he considered, it wasn't like he was that same vision of wretchedness from all those years ago. The period he'd spent in the Demon World had changed him. A lot. As was his wont, he tended to blame the Academy, but it wasn't as if it was the institution itself which had changed him. Moka had been the first of the keys to his physical transformations, having been the means of his assimilation of the Shinsō blood that would eventually become his own. After his soul had been hopelessly warped by the mindlessness of the Ghoul, her role as the catalyst of his various transfigurations was succeeded by the Board Chairman, who was in turn eventually followed by the Yōjustu Master himself, Tōhō Fuhai. The gift he'd received through the Dark Lord's Human Modification techniques had given him a power that he could have never hoped to attain. His eyes, rendered hopelessly heterochromatic by the old genius' procedures, were an enduring reminder of the strength he had gained.

But it wasn't just a physical transformation. Before he entered the Demon World, he'd been as run-of-the-mill as the next bored secondary schooler, trapped on a one-way trip toward the salary man's day-to-day misery. He'd never been graced with any particular intellectual gifts, nor had he been imbued with any sort of astonishing bravado. He was middling; almost horrendously so. Then he'd come to Yōkai, and suddenly, he was the most utterly unique being in the entire world. Not actually a good thing, given that what made him unique was that he was, at least initially, the only human in an Academy for monsters. Needless to say, mediocrity hadn't seemed like such a bad thing in the face of painful and immediate death.

And then he'd met _them_. The girls shot him an inquisitive glance at the soft smile that suddenly played across his lips, but he waved them off. They hadn't come all at once – indeed, his bonds with the majority of them had only been forged under the direst of circumstances – but each and every one had come to be an inseparable part of his life, building him up into the whatever-it-was he'd eventually become.

He peered at Mizore. Eyes of deep blue peered back at him. His first encounter with the Yuki-Onna, as with the others, had been so very characteristic of Aono Tsukune. He'd attempted to blow off an inarguably creepy stalker, and her resolution had led her to attach herself to him for life. She was one of those sticky states of affairs that he'd quickly learned not to regret. The years had quickly robbed him of the frights he'd get whenever she'd pop out of nowhere, and her alarming custom of turning up while he was in the nude had pretty much destroyed the tattered shreds of his modesty. To define her by her eccentricities, however, was a foolish mistake. The constant presence of the Snow Woman's cool melancholy had become a comforting contrast to the chaotic bedlam that was usually raised by the more rowdy of his other companions, and he'd lost count of the times her serene rationale had saved them from some form or other of seemingly inevitable doom. The fact that he knew she would always have his back was a testament to the strength of their undeniably odd relationship, and he couldn't imagine any sort of life without her shadowing his every move.

Ruby had fallen back from the bench, and was perusing a hefty-looking tome on a reading desk in the corner. Yet another of the many people on his dreadfully long list of _Erstwhile __Enemies_, their friendship had been a quirky one. Her assignment to the position of Chairman's aide had meant that their interaction prior to his Graduation had been limited, but she'd always seemed to turn up whenever it really mattered. Both beautiful and wise beyond her years, she'd recently developed an alarming habit of turning up in his room in the middle of the night clad in rather revealing leathers with Belmont and cuffs in hand. On the other hand, if it weren't for her disturbing tastes with regards to the bedroom, he might even have gone for her mature charm by now. She was a good three years older than him, but she'd never seemed to have a problem with the gap, and, being a male straddling the fence between adolescence and adulthood, he hadn't given a flying fairy about the age difference. Naturally, Yukari had considered this completely unfair, given the way they'd initially treated _her_.

As if she'd caught onto his thoughts, the crashing cacophany of the Witch's badly-pitched singing burst through from the bathroom. Yukari was a special case. Being four years their junior, she'd joined the girls' petty contest over ownership of his soul with an enormous handicap. She might have been the intellectual and psychological equivalent of the others from the get go, but that meant nearly nothing when it came to the limitations imposed on her by her physical development. A problem which Tsukune had been unable to look past. Surprisingly, in spite of his outright refusal to return the advances of the pre-pubescent Witch, she had persevered, and had become yet another of his closest and most trusted friends. Her fierce determination and unmatched ingenuity had saved him more times than he particularly cared to remember, and though she'd often doubted it, he was no less likely to rely on her than any of the others when it came to the pinch.

Of course, it wasn't as if she was still eleven to his fifteen. Ten years had done a lot for the perpetually disadvantaged Witch, and she was now a mere twenty-one to his twenty-five. Though they were still four years apart, anyone could tell you that it was the shedding of the stigma of youth that made the difference. These days, Tsukune wasn't at all opposed to giving her the sneaky onceover that came so naturally to all young men his age. As had to be expected, not all of them had taken the Witch's growth so well. Kurumu still complained both loud and often that she was never going to get over the memory of the day Yukari had surpassed her height.

The Succubus' cerulean bangs brushed the bench-top; she moaned tiredly. While he did kinda miss the bouncing enthusiasm he used to be met with outside the boys' dormitory, Sleepy Kurumu was more than cute enough to get away with her morning grouch. Not that he could ever say as much without risking the violation of his astoundingly intact virginity.

He looked over the mess that was Kurumu with a rush of warmth. Though he often played up embarrassment at her exuberant displays of affection, he'd be the first to admit that he'd been beyond flattered by the young woman's unabashed expression of her love for him. No, flattery wasn't the right word. After having been alone and friendless for so long, he'd been grateful for her friendship; he'd thought her liveliness was a bit much, but that had been a small price to pay for the bond they'd had. Ten years on, and he was still amazed at the warm-hearted obstinacy of the Succubus' love. Even amongst the others, Kurumu was special. She wore her heart on her sleeve, and didn't give a damn what anyone thought of her for it. Not that their relationship was without hitches. Her earnest devotion was a constant source of agony to the Modified Human. Knowing that he could never return her completely unconditional feelings with _all_ of his heart was a blistering sore point. But, being Kurumu, she put on a brave face when it came to his reluctance to choose between them. And for that, he really did love her.

In spite of Yukari's merciless teasing, Kurumu was nothing like the thick girl she was often made out to be. The opening of the _Cluttered __Moon_ had been her brainchild. While business wasn't exactly booming, this was probably the only way that they'd all be able to stick together.

And then there was Moka. Dear, sweet Moka. The Vampire who'd run him over with her bicycle and sucked his blood. His first friend at Yōkai, and often-time saviour, back in those early days. If it hadn't been for her, he never would've survived his first day at the Academy. He never would've gone on to meet Kurumu, Yukari, Ruby, or Mizore. He never would've gained the strength he eventually had, and he never would have played his part in all the adventures they had had. Her blood had saved him, and he had used it to save her.

She'd been his protector, just as he'd eventually come to be hers.

Of course, the odds of the cooler half of Moka's fractured personality admitting that she'd _ever_ needed his help were about as strong as the chance of his getting first shower of a morning. The cold Shinsō Vampire was not the sort of creature that believed in the concept of obligation. Well. She _did_, but her version tended to be a one-way street. On the other hand, he'd never pretended that he didn't owe her anything less than the world. His life, his strength, his friends; if not for her, he'd be nothing.

Though, when he'd first told her that he couldn't be with her alone any more than he could with any of the others, it had come as something of a surprise to learn that Moka – both the Inner and the Outer – was nowhere near as opposed to the idea of the contest for his heart being a team sport as she'd initially made out. He'd thought, or rather, _hoped_ she'd understand the reasons why he hadn't been able to choose her – the four lovely and terrible reasons he _couldn__'__t_ choose her – but the pride of the Shinsō would allow her nothing but her triumph. It hadn't happened overnight, but within a couple of miserable weeks, Moka had had a rather notable change in perspective on the whole polygamy thing.

He suppressed the tired moan rising in his chest. _That_ turning point had been two years ago. Since then, the girls had been going to ridiculous lengths to get him to change his mind on the issue. They insisted that they were okay with sharing, as long as they could have _him_. He wasn't buying it. Moka and Kurumu claimed that polygamy was a fairly standard idea in Vampiric and Succubus' society. He'd asked them if it was just as standard amongst Witches and Snow Women. The other three had reluctantly admitted that no, it wasn't particularly common amongst their people. This confirmation was all he needed. There was no woman in her right mind that could possibly be happy sharing the man she loved with _four_ other women.

Which was why he refused to give in to them. If he had his way, none of them would ever be exposed to that misery.

Regardless of their romantic antics, he knew that if they asked him for anything – well, anything except _that_ – he'd do it without question. It wasn't because of the obligation, though that was a part of it. As ridiculous as it was, he did love them. He'd go to the ends of the world, both Human and Demonic, for their happiness. That was just how it was.

He grinned, thinking of the other friends he'd made along the way. Kokoa, Gin, Nekonome. Hell, he'd even come to regard the unerringly sinister Chairman with a strange sense of affection; albeit in a _You-Saved-My-Arse-So-I__'__m-Sorta-Obligated-To-Respect-You_ kind of way. But none of these were even nearly as important to him as these five; his closest friends.

He chortled, earning him his eighteenth consecutive strange look for the morning. Since when had he become so contemplative?

A ringing bell signalled the arrival of a customer in the store below. As if a flag had been dropped, the calm period was over, and it was time for chaos to resume its rightful place as ruler of the day. Their reactions were instantaneous. Kurumu made a leaping dive for the window, wings unfolding as she made it out into open air. Ruby followed her a moment later. There was a sharp _kchack_ of fracturing ice as the clone on the sofa broke and shattered. The real Mizore popped out of one of the low-lying cupboards before making a run for the stairs. Moka forwent the stairs altogether, bringing her fist down with enough force to create a hole just large enough to slip through. Tsukune sighed as she vanished through the makeshift passage, morosely eyeing the myriad of poorly patched hatches she'd made in the past.

A moment later, the pipes stopped creaking, and a nearly naked Yukari dashed out to collect her stockings from where she'd dropped them earlier. Tsukune had barely raised an eyebrow at the unabashed Witch's passing. She paused when she realised he was the only one left, made a big show of bending over to pick up her things, and then sped away with a sly wink.

Tsukune shook his head as he made his way toward the stairs. It was going to be another long day in the shop. Unbidden, a smile hit him at the thought of the five young women – the five hopelessly maddening Yōkai – his best friends and companions, waiting for him downstairs. Business might be bad, but there were some things he wouldn't give up for the world.

Perhaps a long day wasn't such a bad thing after all.

~o~


End file.
